The Recruit
by Paunakan Jen
Summary: Asami gains an employee following the death of a rival in Japan's criminal underworld.


Title: The Recruit  
Characters: Asami, Yoh, Kirishima  
Spoilers: None  
Warnings: Just a tiny bit of gore.  
Disclaimer: The amazing world of "Viewfinder" and all its characters belong to Yamane Ayano.

* * *

**NINE YEARS AGO**

Asami stared at the black-and-white photo. The unseeing eyes of a dead man stared right back.

"When?" he asked, looking up sharply at his aide.

"Sometime between midnight and early morning," Kirishima replied, handing Asami the rest of the photos. "His body was found propped against one of the entrances to Kabukicho."

Asami flipped through the various shots. They were dark and grainy. Still, the subject was unmistakable — Shirota Daijiro, well-known owner of several love hotels, host clubs and bars in the Shinjuku district. If it had anything to do with sex, Shirota had a hand in it.

Not so well-known was the fact he controls — or rather, had controlled — one of the most profitable smuggling routes from Japan to Hong Kong.

Asami's mind raced as he considered what taking over this route would mean. His organization was growing steadily. He had men, goods, buyers and routes. But he didn't have this particular route — the control of which would easily make him one of the most powerful men in Tokyo's criminal underworld. Control of this route also would easily make him a target for the other powerful men in the criminal underworld. Was he prepared? Thinking about the threats made him ask: "Who's the killer?"

Kirishima shook his head. "No one knows, Asami-sama." The aide paused, then added, "Yet."

"Our rivals?"

"We got first word on this."

"His organization?"

"Watanabe says it's in chaos," Kirishima replied, referring to Asami's man inside Shirota's group. "There's no leadership."

Asami nodded. "Of course, Shirota didn't trust any of his men enough to pick a deputy." He glanced down at the photos that depicted the smuggler's rather gruesome death. "Not that he had ever expected something like this to happen to him. He was careful to the point of being paranoid."

"Apparently, he wasn't careful enough."

"Someone got to him. I need to find out who." If they didn't move now, somebody else will. Most likely the same somebody who just murdered Shirota. Asami looked at his aide, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "We've been handed an opportunity, Kirishima. Let's not waste it."

Kirishima bowed. "I'll gather the men, Asami-sama."

After his aide left the room, Asami gathered the photos and went through them more slowly. He didn't stop until he got to the first one Kirishima had handed him.

The slit in Shirota's throat gaped liked a pair of lips bared in an obscene smile.

"Who did this to you, Shirota? Should I thank them or worry about them?"

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

Asami opened the door to a small room where two of his men were hunkered over small televisions, watching security tapes. During the chaos that followed Shirota's murder, Watanabe, Asami's spy, was able to grab tapes and documents from the dead smuggler's office. The information had guided Asami's decisions and actions during his takeover of Shirota's organization.

"Found anything yet?"

One of the men looked up from the screen he was watching, looking a little dazed. He blinked a number of times in an attempt to put Asami into focus. "Lots, Boss." He handed Asami a folder. "We thought we already knew Shirota's clientele. Here are some more people you'll find very interesting."

Asami eyes swept through the names on the first sheet of paper. The names of high-ranking government officials, rich businessmen and some celebrities from the entertainment world peppered the list.

"How about a suspect in his killing? Anybody behaving suspiciously prior to his death?" Asami peered at one of the monitors that was showing Shirota talking to a young man. The timestamp indicated the recording was taken almost a month before Shirota's death.

"Hard to tell, Asami-sama," the other man spoke up. At Asami's raised eyebrow, he continued, "Everybody around him looked jumpy and terrified." The first man nodded in agreement.

Asami sighed. "How many tapes do you still have to go through?"

The men nodded at two more boxes at their feet.

Asami blew out his breath, then flipped his wrist to check his watch. He thought about still making it to a dinner meeting that involved a bunch of politicians and insufferable businessmen, then looked at his bleary-eyed men. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and pressed the speed dial.

"Suoh, please give my regards to the chairman. I won't be able to make it tonight. Make all the necessary arrangements. Thanks."

Asami hung up, then shrugged out of his suit jacket. One of the men immediately pulled another chair and set up him up on a screen of his own.

"Well, let's see if we can figure out who Shirota's assassin was."

"Boss, you really think it was someone in the organization?"

Asami looked at the men surrounding the smuggler. "It had to be. He wouldn't have let anybody else get close enough."

*****

He pushed play, the click of the buttons and the whir of the VCR the only sound in the room. He rolled his shoulders and neck to ease the stiffness as yet another piece of footage focusing on Shirota's main office began. He had long sent home his men and had told them he would do the same. But Asami found himself continuing to feed the VCR with tape after tape.

The answer had to be there. Or at least a clue that could lead to the answer he sought. He needed to know who killed Shirota. As young as his own organization was, he needed to know who the potential threats were. And whoever slit Shirota's throat was definitely worth worrying about.

Asami watched as a young man in a flashy suit entered the lobby of one of the clubs. He had noticed the kid a few tapes back. He seemed to be the youngest of Shirota's men; maybe eighteen or nineteen? Asami shook his head. Every year, thousands of young men like this one flood Shinjuku in search of a better life. Some actually get good jobs; but many others end up as henchmen to the various Yakuza organizations. Their employment usually lasted two to three years — if they were lucky.

The elevator doors opened and Asami's focus shifted from the young man to Shirota. The smuggler stepped out, again surrounded by a phalanx of men. The young man joined Shirota's retinue.

Another camera down one of the hallways picked up the group as it moved toward the back of the club, where Asami knew Shirota kept his offices. But the group stopped when they caught sight of a young and very beautiful woman walking toward them. She tried to get past them quickly, but Shirota stepped in front of her. The footage provided no sound but Asami knew exactly what was going on — Shirota was propositioning the young woman. And she was shaking her head vehemently.

He was so focused on Shirota and the woman that he almost missed it. Asami sat up straight and hit the rewind button. This time, he paid attention to Shirota's men. To one man, to be exact. He rewound the tape one more time to be sure, then paused the frame.

While everyone else was egging on the boss, the young man Asami had noticed earlier was looking at Shirota with absolute hatred in his eyes.

*****

The young man forced himself to walk at a more sedate pace even though every nerve in his body told him to run. The whole day he felt like he was being stalked. He had taken all precautions to make sure he wasn't being followed but he couldn't shake the notion someone was onto him.

"Calm down," he told himself under his breath.

He stuck his hand inside the pocket of the messenger bag slung across his body and closed his fingers around the handle of a sheathed knife. Instead of feeling better, he started shaking and he quickly pulled his hand out, leaving the weapon inside. He'd used it only once and vowed he would never use it again. He prayed he'd be able to keep that promise to himself.

He stopped across the street from a four-story walk-up and turned his head left, then right. To anyone who might have been watching, it looked like he was merely checking the street for oncoming vehicles before crossing to the other side. In truth, he was scanning the area of anything out of place — an unfamiliar car in the lot across the building, a stranger who looked particularly watchful.

Finding nothing to be alarmed about, the young man crossed the street and entered the apartment building. He climbed the stairs swiftly, his sneakers making no sound on the steps.

It had been a little bit more than two weeks and it didn't look like anyone had managed to link him to the death of Shirota Daijiro. But he couldn't be too careful. Though Shirota's organization was in tatters, there were those who still considered themselves loyal to the smuggler's memory. One wrong word, one wrong look and he could still end up at the bottom of Tokyo Bay.

What he needed was to get out of the city, to get out of Japan. He just had to make sure no one was tracking him, that he wouldn't bring the monsters of Shirota's world on his family.

He made the last turn onto the fourth floor and strode toward the door near the end of the hallway. He slowed down before reaching it, checking for any obvious signs of a break-in. Nothing was immediately visible. Not satisfied, the young man knelt and ran his fingers along the sliver of space between the door and its frame until he felt the thin piece of transparent tape he had placed in between. If someone had opened his door, the tape would have been ripped.

Releasing a quiet sigh of relief, the young man pushed his key into the hole and quietly twisted the knob. The door opened to a dark hallway. He stepped in and closed the door behind him with a soft click. He took some time to make sure all the security bolts he had installed were in place. Tiredly, he dropped his bag on the floor and toed off his shoes before taking the three steps that led to his living room/dining room/bedroom. He slapped the light switch on the wall to his right— and froze at the sight of a man in a suit sitting in the middle of the room.

*****

The young man spun around and raced for the door. But before he could unlock the bolts, he was grabbed from behind by Kirishima. He tried to fight but the Asami's bespectacled subordinate was quick for his size, immediately knocking down the young man and tying his hands behind his back. Kirishima drew him to his feet and led him back to where Asami waited patiently.

"How did—?!" The young man shook his head. "I thought I lost you."

"You were being followed?" Asami asked sharply. At the young man's nod, Asami pulled out a cell phone and punched a couple of numbers. "Suoh, retrace his steps. Someone was following him," he said into the phone.

The young man looked at Asami in confusion. "If it wasn't you, then who was—?"

"Someone else who may have figured out you killed Shirota."

Yoh's shoulder's slumped. He sat on the edge of his bed, looking rather resigned to whatever fate awaited him. "Are you here to kill me?"

Asami cocked his head. "Usually, when people find strangers in their homes, their first question is to ask who the intruders are."

"I know who you are. You're Asami." At Asami's questioning look, Yoh shrugged. "I read the papers."

Asmi chuckled. "And I know you, Yoh." He held out his hand and Kirishima handed him a folder. "Or should I call you by your real name, Yin Zhaohan." He grinned at the young man's look of surprise. "Yes, I know all about you."

Yoh glared at the folder and spat out, "You know nothing about me!"

"Your father died when you were sixteen. Though the police said it was suicide, you believe Shirota killed him."

"He did kill him!" Yoh bit his lip to prevent another outburst and glared at Asami and Kirishima. After some time, Yoh continued in a quieter voice," My father piloted a ferry in Hong Kong. He had a steady hand and knew the waters like the back of his hand. Shirota tried to hire him. My father had heard of Shirota's organization." Yoh cleared his throat as his voice grew hoarse. "He knew the risks of saying no to such a monster."

"And yet he turned down Shirota."

"He was an honorable man. A week later, my mother found him hanging in our home."

"How did you manage to get in Shirota's organization?"

"By lying."

Asami's lips twitched into a small smile. "That goes without saying."

Yoh sighed. "A friend of my father brought me to Shirota about four years ago. Shirota had never seen me and he'd forgotten about the ferry captain from Kowloon he'd killed. I started out as an errand boy—"

"And climbed the ranks." A buzzing sound interrupted them and Kirishima handed Asami a cell phone. Asami listened, told the person on the other end he did good work and handed the phone back to his aide. He turned to Yoh. "Your former colleagues have become suspicious of you."

Yoh jerked back when Kirishima stepped toward him, but Asami's subordinate merely began untying the younger man's hands.

"Don't worry, I'll help you get out of the country," Asami said.

"What?! Why?! I thought you were going to kill me."

"No one said anything about killing you."

"So, what was all this about?"

"Your job interview."

"WHAT?!"

*****

Asami stood and headed for the door, Kirishima trailing him. "Grab your things," he told Yoh. "You're leaving Japan tonight."

The younger man followed them out of the apartment, snagging his bag along the way. "I have everything I need in here."

The three men descended the stairs, but instead of going out the front door, Asami and Kirishima turned toward the fire exit.

Yoh followed without protest. But when Kirishima abruptly turned around, grabbed Yoh's wrists and tied them together, Yoh began struggling. His scream was aborted when Asami shoved a handkerchief into his mouth and pulled a hood over his face. The swat of cooler air told him he'd been taken out of the building, but he was quickly bundled into a car.

When the hood was taken off, Yoh found himself seated inside a limo with Asami next to him, calmly smoking a cigarette.

"Had to make whoever was watching think you were being taken against your will," Asami said as he loosened the rope around Yoh's wrists.

Yoh spat out the handkerchief. "You couldn't have warned me?!"

Asami smirked.

Yoh gingerly sat back against the leather seat. Outside the window, the scenery of Shinjuku flew past.

"Uh, Asami-san. Why are you helping me?"

"You won't be of any use to me dead."

Yoh nodded slowly. Of course, altruism did not dictate Asami Ryuichi's actions. "And you wanted to hire me? Why? For what?"

Asami blew a plume of smoke before answering. "My organization is expanding and I expect at some point I'll need more men in Hong Kong. It wouldn't hurt to have them already in place when things start moving."

"Why me?"

"You infiltrated a criminal organization at ... what, seventeen? Worked your way up. Knew enough to shut up and avoid detection until you got the chance to kill the man who murdered your father. A man, I should say, who had foiled many assassination attempts. That showed skill, intelligence, patience. Characteristics I look for in those I employ."

"And if I say no? Are you going to kill me?"

"No, I'll have Kirishima stop the car and let you out." Asami pulled on the cigarette again before continuing, "Of course, you might run into your old associates."

Yoh considered his situation. Without Asami's help, getting out of Japan would be very difficult. And even if he were successful in leaving the country, what then? What was he going to do back in Hong Kong? He didn't finish school so his employment options were limited. Pilot a ferry like his father? Work the docks like some of his cousins? Be a fisherman? Yoh silently scoffed at the ideas.

Could he return to a normal life after what he'd done? He had killed a man. His hands were tainted with blood. Would his family understand? His mother and sister? Would they accept his explanation? He'd left them four years ago without a word and he was sure they'd heard he became part of Shirota's organization. Would they believe him?

What was his other option? Work for Asami? Yoh had to admit he found the man interesting. At such a young age, he already held a lot of power in Tokyo's underworld. And he was hungry for more.

Yoh had been telling the truth when he told Asami he had read about him in the papers. He didn't mention he also had heard the scuttlebutt among criminals. He'd heard the words "ruthless" and "cunning" tossed about in reference to Asami. He'd also heard Asami took care of his men.

Asami waited as Yoh weighed his options. He couldn't tell what was going through the younger man's mind; his face was unreadable. A valuable skill at the gaming tables — or if you were conning your way into a criminal organization.

He quirked an eyebrow when the younger man shifted to face him. "And?"

"I'll be your man."

"Good decision," Asami replied. "We're here."

Here was a dimly lit, deserted alley. Yoh could barely make out the shape of another vehicle.

Asami reached into his suit jacket and gave Yoh a card with a name and phone number. "Call this man as soon as you get to Hong Kong. He'll set you up and will be your main contact." Asami nodded at the other car parked next to the limo. "You can't take public transportation. They'll take you outside Tokyo and from there you'll be able to find passage to Hong Kong."

Yoh stepped out of the car, faced Asami and bowed to him. "Thank you, Asami-sama."

Asami waved away the words of gratitude. "Most of the time, Yoh, I'll ask you to do something for me without telling you why. All I ask is that you do it to the best of your abilities. No questions asked."

Yoh briefly wondered what he had gotten himself into, but answered, "Of course, Asami-sama."

He bowed one more time and turned to join the men in the other car.

**TWO YEARS LATER**

Yoh sat in the back room of one of the stalls in one of Hong Kong's many shopping malls. The store was a front for Asami's organization, and Yoh was waiting for the boss' phone call. He had wondered when he would hear from Asami. He'd heard he was in town meeting with Toh Da-ren, but Yoh didn't get the call to meet up with him this time. This morning, he was told Asami needed to speak with him.

The phone rang, jerking Yoh from his thoughts. He took a deep breath, picked it up and answered, "Hello?"

"Yoh, I need you to go to prison."

He'd worked for Asami long enough to know the man always had a plan — though he did not always understand it. "Of course, Asami-sama."

"Everything has been arranged. You'll only serve a short sentence. But I need you in there to watch over Liu Feilong."

Yoh's brow knitted into a frown. Liu Feilong of the Baishe? Out loud he said, "I won't fail you, Asami-sama."

Yoh received a few more details about the assignment before Asami ended the call. When Yoh walked out of the room, his thoughts turned to the youngest son of the man who ruled the Chinese mafia in Hong Kong. He was familiar with the name, but not with the man. Yoh wondered if he would find Liu Feilong interesting at all.

**The End**


End file.
